


half-baked

by ElasticElla



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Baking, F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-08-14 05:55:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8001028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElasticElla/pseuds/ElasticElla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Azula loses her patience and firebends a cake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	half-baked

Azula frowns at the charred mass of cake, wonders if she puts enough icing on it Mai won't notice the burnt layer underneath. Perhaps extra sweet icing, the tacky stuff only Zuko truly likes. That way Mai won't eat much, won't taste much, and Azula still gets credit for the “heartfelt gesture”. 

Mai of course walks into the kitchen then, ruining that plan. 

“Zula,” she greets, pouring herself a goblet of wine, and another for Azula. 

Azula casually steps around the counter, placing herself between the cake and Mai. Maybe she got lucky and Mai didn't notice it yet. She could find excuses to stay in this exact spot for at least an hour.

“What happened to the… cake?”

Azula's nose twitches, and she grabs the second goblet, downing half of it. “I don't want to talk about it.” 

Mai snorts softly, “You're a terrible cook. What did you do, try to firebend it?” 

Azula can feel her cheeks darkening, is sure Mai meant that rhetorically- and Mai starts _giggling_. 

“This is exactly why I have servants!” Azula exclaims, adding on in a quieter grumble, “I'm never taking Ty Lee's romantic advice again.” 

Mai finishes her cup, and Azula echoes the action, alcohol helping ease the discomfort in her throat. 

“You tried,” Mai grants, stepping into Azula's space and pushing her to lean against the counter. 

“Next time,” Azula pauses, hates admitting mistakes. “it'll be better.” 

Mai's lips quirk up briefly, and then she's kissing her, tongue thick with wine. Azula lets Mai manipulate her, it is her birthday after all, and Azula ends up sitting on the counter, overcooked cake dangerously close. 

Mai stands between her legs, a small smirk on her lips, “I'm still surprised you knew where the kitchen was.” 

Azula huffs, “It's my palace, I know where all of the rooms are.” 

Mai raises an eyebrow, and she begrudgingly adds, “I followed the breakfast plates.” 

She's pleased, or amused perhaps- Azula still sometimes mixes up some of Mai's tiny expressions. Mai pulls a blade, and only being around her for so long keeps Azula from jumping or reaching for her bending. With another lip twitch, definitely amused Azula decides, Mai slices the cake in half, revealing an uncooked gooey center. Steam rises, deceptively good smelling, and Azula reminds herself of the burnt exterior, surely it would taste horrid.

Mai dips the slim knife in the center, brings up a glob of warm cake batter, bringing it before Azula's lips. 

Azula sighs, preparing her taste buds for an unfortunate onslaught. This was what she got for not ordering a usual palace perfect cake, a dozen layers tall with intricate icing, every square inch properly cooked. As punishments go, Azula supposes it could be far worse. 

And then she opens her mouth, careful not to cut her tongue on the knife. 

...it's _good_. 

Azula nearly slices her lips open, Mai pulling the knife back before she can close her mouth around it. Mai grabs another thin slice of batter, brings it back up for her. Azula wants to stick her hand in the cake's shell, scoop out the delicious gooeyness all at once.

Mai licks the knife clean next, and Azula doesn't know if she wants to kiss her first or eat more of the batter before it cools. Mai makes the decision for her, dipping the knife again. 

“This is even better than the cake would have been,” Azula says, easier to admit with her mouth full. 

“Mhmm,” Mai agrees, and all too soon the batter is completely gone. 

“Thank you,” Mai says, and she's kissing her, both of their mouths sugar-sweet, nearly cloyingly so. 

“I love you,” Azula whispers, and Mai kisses the last whispers of sweetness out of her mouth.


End file.
